The Wildcat
by Treefairy
Summary: Aoshi's a bum in law school looking for a job. Misao owns Miami's hottest bar the Wildcat. Will boss be the only thing Misao is to Aoshi? Rated for language and future lemony goodness.
1. Angsty Bastard Syndrome

Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin. Dammit I don't own Aoshi… though I would like to get in his trench coat. I also do not own McDonalds, no, angsty bastard syndrome is not a real disease, and I am very very very poor so please don't sue….  
  
Primarily A/M with slight K/K and S/M  
  
The Wildcat  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Angsty Bastard Syndrome  
  
Aoshi Shinomori was desperate. Desperation and Aoshi Shinomori did not mix.   
  
  
  
Aoshi brushed his long black bangs out of his eyes. He wasn't exactly sure how he had ended up in this particular situation nor did he really care to dwell on it at the moment. Though dwelling was something he did very well. He needed money and he needed it now. He didn't particularly care where he got it, he didn't particularly care how either, but he was going to be on the streets if he didn't get it. Yumi, damn her, had finally had enough. She had packed up his shit and kicked him out. Not that he blamed her. He had a severe case of angsty bastard syndrome that there was just no cure for. Not that he really missed her, their was no real love for his part. But damn did he miss the money.   
  
Yumi had been married to Shishio Makato a prominent oil tycoon from Texas who had died in a freak explosion and had left her loaded. Yumi was lonely and had needed someone. Aoshi had just needed some. After a few months of sleeping together and he supposed in her mind "couple" closeness she had moved him into her mansion. He had been finishing up his second year of law school at the time and was barely keeping himself in his one room apartment and the offer was just too damned tempting. At her request he had quit his job, hell she was supporting him, and he merely focused on school and keeping her happy and paying. That had worked for a year and a half.  
  
Now, it was safe to say he was screwed. His buddy Kenshin from law school was letting him crash at his place for the time being. Luckily Yumi had already paid for this years tuition but he wasn't sure how in the hell he was going to come up with the money for his final year. He needed to find a job and find it fast. Well damn there he was dwelling on it.  
  
Which is how he found himself walking up and down the streets of Miami looking in every window he passed for help wanted signs. He'd already stopped at three places quickly deciding though that shoe stores, pet shops and most definitely McDonalds (gasp the horror) were not up his alley. Not that he was any position to be picky.  
  
Aoshi dodged a platinum haired man almost in a dead sprint, running out of a door several yards ahead. 'Asshole, watch where the hell your going,' he thought continuing his trek. What the hell am I supposed to do now he moaned internally. He wasn't much for external display. Yumi had called him her own personal human sized ice cube. He had always retorted to asking why she still slept with him if that was true. That usually shut her up he thought , smirking. A door in the face interrupted his "happy" thoughts, knocking him clean on his ass.  
  
"Enishi, dammit you can't just leave me like this! Where the hell am I supposed to find a replacement two hours before opening?!?" A blur of black whizzed by him running full tilt down the block, he assumed after the guy that had almost mowed him down, screaming bloody murder and insults all the way. The 'blur' was thorough he'd give her that. At least from the voice he had inferred it was a woman. She was all the way up to insulting the man's great grandparent's pets within a matter of thirty seconds.   
  
Which brought him back to his own problems. His nose was bleeding, he was pretty sure his eye would be black as coal within an hour and his ass hurt. Aoshi was not happy. Well neither was the blur.   
  
Misao was the epitomy of pissed off. Enishi her male bartender had just walked out. And not long before rush at that. She had always had a male to bartend with her and her friend Kaoru not only to cater to the female crowd that her business drew but also as a line of defense to help stop the occasional bar fight and employee grouping that the job entailed. Not that Misao herself couldn't take care of it, but she was just too damned busy most of the time to stop and bust drunken heads together.   
  
She sighed dejectedly, she needed something to take her anger out on and she wasn't really dressed for training. Leather skirts and combat boots weren't the easiest thing to practice her kempou in. She needed a serious stress relief. And she just about walked into one.   
  
Aoshi still sat moaning over his bleeding nose and throbbing eye. Could my life get any worse at the moment he thought? Kami-sama are you punishing me? He needed some tea.   
  
  
  
A shriek of "What the hell are doing?" interrupted his thoughts.   
  
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A/N: Oh ho ho …………… really enjoying writing this story. The second chapter should be up tomorrow or the day after. Thank you so much Ukchan my wolfy partner in crime. Now click that button and tell me what you think…. Please. 


	2. Wet Velvet

Disclaimer: Still don't own Rorouni Kenshin or its yummy characters. And alas Aoshi still hasn't let me get in his trench coat. I do own some wax candle bunnies though, and there might be some cheese in my fridge. J  
  
The Wildcat  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Wet Velvet  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" the blur repeated. Aoshi thought this was the dumbest question he'd ever heard in his life. Obviously he was sitting on the ground. He still hadn't bothered even looking up at her. "I'm sitting on the ground." was his dry reply.  
  
"Well think you captain obvious, what I mean is what the hell are you doing sitting on the ground in front of MY door." she said acidly. She was just spoiling for a fight and she didn't care with who. She really didn't stop to even think about the reasoning behind it. She did that a lot.  
  
"Oh well excuse me. But said door so graciously knocked me in the face and on to my ass. Well no actually you knocked me in the face and on my ass." He finally looked up at her then his icy blue eyes meeting with the brightest aquamarine eyes he had ever seen. The weren't cold looking like the stone though, no those eyes were very warm, and very pissed off. "They look like wet velvet." he mused. Well hell where had that thought come from? Oh shit he had said that out loud! He quickly looked back down holding his still bleeding nose.   
  
Well that brought Misao up short. She wasn't sure wither that was a good thing or not. Wet velvet? That sounded kind of gross. And what exactly was he saying looked like wet velvet. This only served to piss her off further. "Wet velvet? What are you some kind of loon. Did you escape from a metal institution. Do I need to call the cops? You still haven't answered me. Are you drunk? The bar doesn't open for a few hours and I don't need your weirdo type coming in disturbing my customers with insane ramblings about wet fabric. Are you a mute? You gonna answer my question? Do I need to beat the answer out of ya?" She rambled off.   
  
Aoshi wasn't sure what he was supposed to be answering. She had asked about ten questions in her little spill all without taking a breath. Who was the loon here? He looked back up at her, actually looking this time. Long black hair, shiny and soft looking plaited tight landing clean past her ass. Tiny nose and a delicately boned face, stubborn chin, thin black brows arching high over her eyes. Those damn eyes about swallowed her face. And the ugliest scrowl he had ever seen. All in all she was adorable. And young. He continued studying her, remaining silent as usual, though he realized he had said more to her in the past two minutes then most people could get out of him in an hour.   
  
"Well?" Misao asked again studying him in return. Kami-sama he was a hottie. Long black bangs shielding his ice chipped eyes, cold eyes at that. His face was absolutely gorgeous! Strong chin, sculpted cheek bones, and beautiful lips. Well except for the blood dripping out of his nose and the swiftly purpling eye he was hot. Wait she was supposed to be pissed here not drooling over this nutcase who was just sitting there blocking her door. Even if he was a gorgeous nutcase.   
  
"Listen little girl, I already told you, you knocked me over when you went tearing down the side walk like a bat out off hell. God, the least you could do is apologize, hell maybe get me something to stop the bleeding. Besides, how could you possibly own this bar. You don't even look old enough to go to a bar." Dammit all there he was doing that talking thing again. How did this girl do that? It made his throat hurt just thinking about stringing that many words together. He was becoming desperate for tea. An I V drip of tea was sounding very promising at the moment.  
  
Huh? She had done that to him? How had she missed him telling her that? Must have been somewhere in between the drooling and that wet velvet nonsense. Wait did he little girl?!?!  
  
"Little girl? Little girl! I'll have you know I'm twenty two years old you bastard, and how is it any business of yours how I own this bar anyways. Oh and look at that you got blood on my damn door. Just another thing to add to my mountain of problems. Geez what the hell am I supposed to do now, huh? Enishi left, Kaoru's going to be late."   
  
She had started out yelling at him but somewhere in her tirade she had started mumbling to herself ignoring him, again. The last thing he could decipher was something about stupid drunks and groping. He was starting to feel a little sorry for her. A very anti-Aoshi feeling. He didn't like it one bit. Oh shit! Now she was half in tears. A crying female was something he couldn't handle, he was at a loss at what to do now. He decided he was going to have to do that dreaded talking thing again.  
  
"Hey its alright. Cheer up its not the end of the world. I'm alright, and I'm sure whoever he was he wasn't worth you crying over anyways." Ok he never said it would he would be good at the talking thing.  
  
Misao blinked dumbly at him. "That was absolutely pathetic. Was that supposed to make me feel better?" But contrary to that statement all of her anger and frustration had worked its way out of her and she found herself smiling brightly at him eyes quickly drying. "Hey ummm sorry about the door thing." She said sheepishly blushing now feeling very embarrassed. "Oh and sorry about the yelling I've not had the best of days." she trailed off at a loss for words. A completely foreign concept to her. So instead of continuing she merely stuck her hand out to him offering to help him up off the ground.   
  
God, at least the tears stopped he thought accepting her hand and pulling himself slowly up off of the ground. His ass was really throbbing now. Tea, tea, tea, my love, where are you in my time of need? he groaned mentally.   
  
Wow. Had she thought hottie? He was down right beautiful. He was at least a good foot taller then her. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, she could see the muscle rippling in his chest and stomach as he pulled himself completely up. He was wearing a white and orange trench coat, kinda weird she thought, but it seemed to suit him perfectly. Was it hot out here or was it just her? Oh wait she lived in Florida, of course it was hot out here. Why the hell was he wearing a trench coat in this weather, anyways? Comprehensive thought patterns were completely eluding her. So she just continued to look up at him, his hand still clasped lightly in hers.   
  
This girl was starting to weird him out. She just stood there holding on to his hand staring up at him mouth open slightly, eyes slightly glazed. What weird shit was SHE thinking about? " Well, no harm done," he said uncomfortably pulling his hand away from her grasp, one that had tightened considerably. "Watch where you swing that door from now on. Or rather who you swing it into." And with that he moved away preparing to walk back to Kenshin's apartment and doctor himself up.   
  
Misao snapped back to reality. "Wait a sec, you really think I'm going to let you go walking off down the street bleeding all over everything, do ya? God you could scare children with the way your face looks right now." Way to win him over Misao she said mentally berating herself. "Come inside, let me at least give you some ice for your eye and get that bleeding stopped."  
  
He had stopped when she had started talking but resumed his gait down the block when she had paused for breath. Yeah like he was going to willing go anywhere with that little powder keg. She was more likely to bite his head off again or for all he knew chop him up into little bits for fun. No thank you.   
  
Dammit he was still walking. Kaoru would laugh herself to tears when Misao told her that she had let Mr. tall, dark, and gorgeous just walk away from her. "Hey where are you going?" she shouted again. "I just made tea. Come in and have some and at least let me help you. Geez you ungrateful asshole!"  
  
Aoshi stopped. Kami-sama had she just said tea? He was saved. He wanted to do a little dance. He didn't though, he did have angsty bastard syndrome after all. He walked slowly back to her. "Alright then. Oh the names Aoshi Shinomori, by the way." he said sticking out his hand for her to shake. The non-bloody one.   
  
"Misao," she said her eyes lighting up, giving him a mega-watt smile as she reached for the front door. "Misao Makimachi. Welcome to the Wildcat, Aoshi Shinomori."  
  
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Hooray chappie two is finished!!!! Kchan is not slacking!!!!!! Chappie three is almost done and will be up within the next 2 days….   
  
Thanks so much for the sweet reviews Wolvenheart, Moondust-angel, and Spiritdemon hope you liked chapter 2 as well. And thanks always Ukchan (lunar wolf) my faithful beta reader and partner in crime, for once I'm not slacking or procrastinating.   
  
So click that review button and tell me what ya think!!!  
  
K-chan 


	3. The Japanese Museum of Memories

Disclaimer: Still don't own Kenshin. Still poor and unsueworthy. There really was some cheese in my fridge so now I'm eating a cheese sandwich on wheat bread… ahhhh breakfast of champions. P.S. Aoshi please please please please PLEASE can I get in your trench coat??????  
  
A/N: I suppose I should be completely and totally honest here. This idea just popped into my head Saturday night. I banged the first chappie out in an hour, and the second chappie out in two. In other words, I have no freakin clue where this story is actually going to go! But I promise you it is going.  
  
The Wildcat  
  
Chapter 3  
  
The Japanese Museum of Memories  
  
The interior of the Wildcat was surprising to Aoshi, to say the least. On the outside it hadn't even really looked like a bar squished in between a Laundromat and a juice bar in a three story brick building complex. The sign bearing the establishments name in neon red lettering, had been the only adornment. The interior was a totally different story.  
  
He felt like he had just walked into a museum of Japanese history. The color scheme consisted of fire red and black, scenes of dragons, phoenixes, and the bar's namesake, wildcats, swirling along the walls, drawn cleverly and skillfully, at least to his untrained eye it seemed so. The small tables clustered in one corner of the massive room were all lacquered dark wood, and Asian in detail and design, and polished lovingly to a bright shine. Even the stage and d.j. booth held an Oriental air. Possibly though the most astounding area to him was the far wall where sat a massive dark wood bar accented by gleaming silver railing. Behind the bar was the most concentrated arsenal of Japanese weaponry he had ever seen, all polished bright and under lock in key in an enormous glass case. The collection ran the length of the wall, lights spotlighting each piece of exquisite craftsmanship, each shelf swathed with precious red and black Chinese silk. He fairly itched with the desire to run over and examine each piece more closely. But Aoshi of course was not the type of man to give into such desires.  
  
"Well here we are," she stated her voice frothing with pride. "This is my baby." She looked at him curiously when he didn't respond after some time. She frowned slightly at him when still he showed no sign of stupification or that he found any awe inspiring greatness in HER bar. She knew for a fact it kicked ass. Damn stubborn man. So instead she merely beckoned him forward with a wave of her hand, seating him midway down the bar. "I'll go start the tea," she called back over her shoulder disappearing through a door situated on the back wall of the room.   
  
Ahhh now he could see her collection a little more closely. Katanas, wakazashis, and tantos appearing to be of the finest craftsmanship and from all eras of Japanese ancestry were displayed throughout with other weapons spaced in between. A large scythe taking up a large portion of the right end of the case. His eyes continued traveling over the treasures piece by piece, his mouth practically watering. Her love of Japanese weaponry rivaled his own. He was a master of kempou, and the use of two kodachi. Among other things. But all that aside Misao Makimachi was certainly turning out to be a surprising contradiction.  
  
And that was another thing that was getting to him. Her name. Somewhere in his mind it struck a chord. Reverberating off of his brain cells almost in a hum. Makimachi, Makimachi, Makimachi………. Why did it feel so familiar? His eyes still scanning the meticulously arranged case while he bounced the name around in his head. His icy gaze drew to the center of the case where an elaborate focal centerpiece was arranged.   
  
The central region was squared off three shelves high with a highly detailed drawing portraying a particularly gruesome scene of war and had twice as much lighting as the rest of the case. Hanging against the picture were sixteen shining, steel. razor sharp kunai of the utmost in craftsmanship and quality. Aoshi was quite impressed by them. The kunai were secured in a wide sweeping arc drawing his eyes instantly to what they seemed to be framing. His eyes widened further when he realized what the focal point of the case was.   
  
Two of the most exquisite perfectly matched kodachi he had ever seen. Their sheaths resting against their stands were a rich blue-green enamel with swirls of black intertwining along its surface. Their blades so bright he could see his reflection in them from where he was sitting and their tips so sharp he whimsically thought they could possibly cut just from looking at them. His eyes narrowed in on the sheaths of the kodachi once more. They were the exact shade of Misao's eyes. Though of course not as warm or velvety looking as hers. Damn weird thoughts again, he sighed berating himself. A memory fluttered across his mind barely graspable, the strong yet gentle voice of one much older and wiser and years….  
  
"Yes," the voice said laughing, "they remind me of them. Of my dear Sakura and my angel Misao. Eyes as deep as the ocean, so deep you could get lost in. And hair like midnight. I miss them more with each day that passes." his voice then tinged with sadness at his last statement.   
  
Aoshi gasped. She was that Misao????? Better yet She was that Makimachi???? But he would recognize those kodachi anywhere. Ok so he could recognize them with a little push from the previous owner, but still who would have thought when she had slammed that door into his face that she would be his daughter.   
  
The sound of china clinking, and soft footsteps snapped him from his ramblings, announcing Misao's approach. He looked down at the bar his hands were resting on noticing a steadily growing puddle of blood. Oh shit he had completely forgot about his nose, and his eye for that matter. Not to mention his more "life threatening" problem of employment. And here he was ogling some strange girl's sword collection and having tea like he didn't have a care in the world. Ok so maybe she wasn't a complete stranger, well not in the sense that he knew nothing about her. He most certainly did now anyways.   
  
Misao's irritated voice beside him, broke through his thoughts before he could become completely immersed in them again. "God, are you planning on bleeding on every damn thing I own?"  
  
Aoshi gave no reply to this instead lifting his gaze to look into her tiny face, studying her. The raven black hair, the aquamarine pools. Everything fit.   
  
"Genrou Makimachi was your father, was he not?" though to his ears it sounded more like a statement then a question.   
  
Misao's eyes widened in stark astonishment. "You… how do you……. How do you know that?" her voice barely audible in her surprise.  
  
He fixed his gaze on hers, his next words almost causing Misao to drop the tea tray she was carrying. "He was my teacher."  
  
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A/N: Kchan/Nekochan/treefairy/me opinion on this chapter. Ugh…. Too short and boring lol. One of those chappies that you have to write to inform but don't want to write cause well, it bores the hell out of you. Except the part wit all of the swords lol. Nekochan loves her swords. Sigh… anyways now that that chappie is out of the way I have finally figured out where this is going and I promise the next chappie will be more entertainment and less information.  
  
And on with the Thank yous!!!  
  
I never realized that all those reviews would make me feel so warm and fuzzy!!!!!! Purr purr purr……  
  
Wolvenheart: Drone? lol ok……. Yes Aoshi does seem to get hit with things a lot. Then again I think he needs some sense knocked into him, so then, so be it. Glad you like this little ficcy of mine.  
  
Battousai's Girl: Thanks a bunch, I'm going to try to keep updating as quickly as possible. Luckily I'm off of work for the next four days and am on spring break so I hope to get a few more chappies rollin'.  
  
Nikki: Thank you! Hope this was soon enough for ya! lol  
  
Zerianyu: Lol I went looking for you're A/M story and realized I had already been reading it…. Was very frustrated with Mis/Aoshi's interuption after the party…. Such is destiny… I'm trying to catch up on all of my reviewing but its been difficult with work, school , and trying to play ffx2 at the same time ha ha…. Thanks so much for the support……  
  
And last but not least   
  
Ukchan/Ookamichan/lunarwolf what ever the hell I'm callin you these days…… noooo I will break out my katana for this one, my shinai is not strong enough in this case. Actually since you are faithfully beta reading as we speak I will let it slide…. THIS TIME…. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA  
  
Ummm review please, at least to make me feel warm and fuzzy…………. 


	4. The Japanese Museum of Memories Part 2

Disclaimer: Pick me, Pick me, oooooo please pick me, I wanna own them, then I'm sure to be able to get in my Aoshi-sama's trench coat. Oh damn what do ya know I don't own'm. And I'm outta cheese.  
  
The Wildcat  
  
Chapter 4  
  
The Japanese Museum of Memories  
  
Part 2  
  
Misao led Aoshi to a barstool about midway down the bar then flounced her way into the kitchen with a skip in her step. She supposed she should be more upset, depressed even. But it just wasn't her way. Okina her adoptive grandfather had always said she was too stubborn, cheerful, and genki for her own good but dammit when life tried to get Misao Makimachi down she simply kicked its ass, kunai and fists flyin'.  
  
She hopped around the meticulously arranged kitchen, its interior stark and simple when compared to the chaos and fire of the bar room, collecting supplies for Aoshi's tea and Aoshi's wounds. She had lied when she had told him she had just made tea, not really even sure what had compelled her to do so, only knowing with some epiphanic awareness that she HAD to make him stay. She, not being much for logic, and more for intuition and her gut feelings, had simply went with it. She wondered vaguely if she would end up regretting it.  
  
Misao's luck had never the best anyways…  
  
Her hands ran methodically through the motions of preparing the tea as her brain wandered again to the stranger waiting in the next room. Aoshi Shinomori… Shinomori…… The name struck a chord within her, though she was sure she had never met the man before, or anyone with the last name Shinomori for that matter. She figured she had heard the name before in passing conversation, though she noticed the name was Japanese in origin, as was her own. Her Japanese heritage was something she was insanely proud of, having been born there and spending the first nine years of her life there with her mother.   
  
Her mother Sakura, possibly the most beautiful and feminine woman Misao had ever encountered in all her twenty three years of life. Her voice always soft and breathy, though always full of such sweet gentleness and laughter. Her mother had been her lifeline. Always there to dry her tears and encourage her in every avenue that Misao, with her chaotic nature, seemed to entangle herself in. Her dear, sweet kachan, who's life had lasted so briefly. She felt tears sting her eyes, and quickly blinked them away, as she placed the water filled kettle on the burner of the stove.  
  
  
  
Her thoughts swung oddly enough, to her father. A man Misao scarcely let herself contemplate. She had respected the man greatly, had listened to his sage opinions religiously, almost obsessively, had loved him as much as she could possibly love anyone, but had such anger and resentment towards him, that still to this day, threatened to tear her apart.  
  
Genrou Makimachi had left Kyoto, Japan when Misao was at the tender age of two, a man of ideas and dreams, hoping to make a new life for himself and his family in the western world, a world that he idealistically thought suited his vision of himself perfectly. He had come to Miami, where his dear friend Okina had migrated to, hoping to stake a claim in the business world and provide security and wealth for his family.   
  
He had went into business with Okina, opening a traditional Japanese restaurant they had reverently named the Aoiya, a tribute to their ancestors who had ran a similar establishment in the late 1800's in Kyoto. The story of its history as a harbor and base for the Oniwaban, a clan of ninjas, was a legacy Misao proudly and thoroughly knew by heart. Okina and Genrou's venture had proved prosperous Genrou later venturing into real estate, the building, The Wildcat, now resided in being one of his purchases.   
  
She rarely saw her father during those seven years, he only being able to visit home rarely, what with the responsibilities of his growing establishment, though each brief stay was burned firmly into her mind. She could remember being so impressed and awe inspired every time her father's commanding presence would grace the small home, she and her mother shared. He would always bring her trinkets from America, dolls and the like and dresses of the latest fashion for her mother. It was several years before Misao fully understood who Genrou was, she not realizing the full meaning of the role this man she called father was supposed to be playing in her young life.   
  
When she was nine years old her father had returned again, though this visit completely different from his previous visits, he was finally there to take them both to their new life in America.   
  
Misao had not had too much difficulty adjusting, as her mother had began teaching her daughter the English language almost as soon as she had a grasp on her native tongue, knowing that the transition to America would be all the easier for her child's knowledge of the language. And Misao's own cheerful disposition and energetic attitude had made making friends easily done including her best friend and partner in crime, Kaoru Kamiya.   
  
She had walked, well more like skipped into her forth grade class room, on her first day of school in America, had taken one look at the small girl, almost as tiny as herself, with long ebony hair tied into a high bow bedecked pony tail and wide sapphire eyes and their fates had been sealed. Misao and Kaoru had become as close as sisters, hopping into their share of mischief and trouble with feet first and eyes wide open. Even to this day, now as coworkers, with the business of making money, instead of trouble, the two girls were inseparable.  
  
And when Misao had decided to open up her own bar a little over a year ago, Kaoru had immediately signed on to support Misao in any way that she could. So now it was she, Kaoru, and Enishi…. Wait scratch that Enishi, the bastard, had just walked out. Ok, she and Kaoru, ensuring the smooth operation of The Wildcat, swiftly gaining popularity as one of the hottest bars in the large city. Something Misao was insanely proud of accomplishing. She imagined though, that her father was rolling over in his grave at what she had done with his hard earned money.   
  
But dammit all, she needed to hire a replacement. And fast. The Saturday night crowds were the toughest to manage, usually brash, loud, and easily swayed to violence. Misao knew with her kempou, kunai and fast talking she could resolve just about any situation that could come up, but with only two people working she just didn't have enough eyes or hands to dedicate to both keeping her customers happy AND keeping her bar in one piece.   
  
Setting the traditional tea set and condiments on a delicate crystal tray, an heirloom from her mother, she quickly grabbed a clean cloth, dampening it, for Aoshi's bleeding nose and grabbed an ice pack for his eye from the industrial sized freezer. Juggling her items carefully, she slowly made her way back into the bar, pulling the kitchen door closed with her foot.   
  
She studied him across the short distance, the black hair, falling into those crystalline eyes, giving him an almost boyish appearance, though she guessed he was around twenty-seven. The long, narrow, muscular frame, lounging almost elegantly on the barstool, clad in a semi-clinging black t-shirt and slightly baggy jeans. And that damned ridiculous white and orange trench coat, that oddly served to give him a quite aura of command. She wasn't sure why, and really didn't want to delve into that thought process any further, it just was. From his narrowed eyes, and scrunched forehead, he appeared to be studying something with great interest. She followed that icy gaze to where it rested, on the center of her display of weaponry, seemingly focused on the kodachi she had reverently displayed.  
  
Her father had been a master of twin kodachi, as well as kempou and a vast array of throwing weapons. After coming to America, he had taught her everything she knew about martial arts, though her preference had always been kunai. She could skillfully, and accurately throw sixteen of the deadly sharp throwing knives, at once, her aim always right on the mark. Her skill with kunai and her mastery of kempou had served her well at maintaining a safe and well run establishment. She kept one set of kunai hidden under the bar, as well as three strapped to her right thigh with a garter, one good aspect of her wearing those skirts she despised so much.   
  
But as Kaoru was repeatedly reminding her, in order to succeed you had to look the part. And look the part she did. Tall black combat boots encased her legs to just below the knee, the ties up the front just for looks though, they were actually quite practical , with zippers running up the sides. Her shirt was asymmetrically cut, deep red and covering one arm completely, leaving the other arm and shoulder deliciously bare. A small black leather mini sat low on her hips covering just enough for decency sake, and a pair of matching fingerless gloves, completed the ensemble, a striking contrast to the milky white of her skin. She hadn't finished getting ready though, hair and makeup still undone, what with her flight down the street after Enishi. She would have to go upstairs to her apartment, soon, to finish in time for opening.  
  
  
  
She walked closer to Aoshi, noticing now that attention was elsewhere, glaring down at the small puddle of his blood collecting on the surface of the bar, seemingly fascinated with it. What the fuck was his problem, she wondered silently.  
  
"God, are you planning on bleeding on every damn thing I own? She voiced loudly.   
  
His gaze lifted to her then, his eyes carefully studying her face, as though searching for something, she wondered vaguely what that was.  
  
His voice broke through her thoughts then, startling her slightly, "Genrou Makimachi was your father, was he not?" her eyes widened considerably, how the hell did he know who her father was. She was frankly astonished.  
  
"You… how do you……. How do you know that?" her voice coming out soft and confused her brain whirling to try and get her thoughts sorted out correctly and formed into words.  
  
Misao was not prepared for his answer. If she had, had the ability to see the future and find out the answer to her question she never would have asked. But she didn't, and his next words caused her body to go numb, almost dropping the priceless tea set in her arms.  
  
His low timbred voice resonated through her being, paralyzing her when he uttered in response, "He was my teacher."  
  
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Evil evil evil evil Nekochan….. Tee hee   
  
Yes I know I still haven't answered the questions as to why this conversation, or why Aoshi knowing Misao's father is such a big deal to her. And I realize that there still wasn't much action in this chapter. This chapter kind of came out of the blue, completely going against the plans I had for chapter 4. So those ideas have obviously been moved to chapter 5 lol.   
  
I have had some response stating that my chapters are not long enough, and the only thing I can say is that I end them where they feel right. Its also easier for me to post more chapters more often If they are shorter.  
  
Now on with the Thanks:  
  
Zerianyu: Thanks so much girl I am in love with the newest chappie of Marriage Case. No you weren't rambling and you weren't overly promoting your story but I will. EVERYONE GO READ ZERIANYU'S MARRIAGE CASE! Its awesome. Thanks again for loving my story.  
  
IrisKitsune: Thanks so much for the support, Your story Land of Smiles is shaping up to be a very nice story, interesting choice in your name for the bar.  
  
Battousai's Girl: I appreciate the review, and I hope to update as frequently as I possibly can.  
  
JL: YAY!!!!! Warm and fuzziness is at an all time high!! Thanks…  
  
Kagome-angel2000: Glad you are liking it so far…. I can't wait to see what happens with Misao and Aoshi either. Though I do plan for a few surprises along the way, ideas for this fic keep growing and changing in my mind the more I write and receive reviews.   
  
SpiritDemon: I love when I get repeat reviewers, that makes me feel like I'm doing at least something right. Lol sure would love to talk with ya some time, I'll get to that dreaded email thing as soon as I get a chance…. Hope to talk to ya soon…  
  
Pyroaoi: I tell you that was the hardest thing ever!!!! I love Japanese history, as well as design and weaponry…. (Kchan loves her swords!!!!!!)…. But when it came to deciding on a design for the bar I was at a loss for two days, and when I finally decided on a Japanese arsenal as the backdrop for The Wildcat, I thought hey this will be so much easier. Lol not true at all……… I sweat dropped all the way through that scene. Glad it felt so realistic though!!!!  
  
And lastly Ukchan/lunarwolf/ookamichan: Your off the hook now I suppose. You've been keeping me very busy with stories to beta read!!!! Sorry about the Wolf Song chappie 1 mishap…. Oi when I got it, it was already messed up, I'm not sure what happened there…… Geez bowing and graveling and scraping… as soon as this is finished I'm on my way to your house to help you fix it!!!! I swear!!!!!!   
  
Oh and for everyone who actually reads this lol check out Ukchan's stories "Wolf Song", if you like card captor Sakura, and her ranma/slayers crossover, "Never Trust Spells You Find On the Internet"! Both great stories and posted under our screen name Treefairy. ^---^  
  
Ciao loves!!!!!!  
  
(Gross, Now I sound like La Blanc that Naga wanna be from FFX2.…… ugh) 


	5. Both Feet First

Disclaimer: Still don't own Rurouni Kenshin, still poor as hell, my mommy bought me more cheese, and I've decided that I'm going to have to take extreme action if I'm going to be able to get in Aoshi-sama's trench coat….  
  
The Wildcat  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Both Feet First  
  
Aoshi watched Misao, her mouth working, but no sound coming out. It reminded him of a fish he had once caught, while deep sea fishing, years ago, with Misao's father. He wasn't sure why he having been a student of her father's was such a surprise, or better yet why it was such a big deal. He wondered vaguely if she would tell him. He continued studying her, watching as her mouth shut, and her eyes, damn those velvety eyes, finally regained their bright lucidity, he had come to expect from this woman, even with knowing her only a handful of minutes.  
  
Aoshi's silence and semi-bored look finally drew Misao's attention, and she simply uttered two words. "Tell me."  
  
Damn that dreaded talking thing. He sighed. "I started training under your father when I was seven, I believe he had just come to America from Japan not long before. I trained with him, in the Aoiya's dojo", he paused momentarily as surprise graced her face, "From your look I see that the Aoiya is familiar to you. I trained with your father there until the age of fourteen, mastering all aspects of kempou, and the use of twin kodachi." He said finishing abruptly.   
  
"I lived at the Aoiya" she offered in a small voice. "My father, and mother passed away when I was twelve, I lived there for six years." Misao found herself at a lose for words. How did one convey the bitterness and torment she felt to the depths of her very soul when she thought of the events that led up to her permanent stay with Okina at the Aoiya. But from the faintly interested and somewhat concerned look on Aoshi's face she took a deep breath shuddering slightly and continued.   
  
"I'm not sure if you saw much of my father after your training with him halted but I did not. The only time I really saw my father was when we were training." Aoshi raised an eyebrow at this silently urging her to continue, though he wasn't sure why he felt so compelled to hear this strange girl's story. Aa… it was simple really. She was the daughter of the man he had respected and loved more than any other person in the world.   
  
"You see I know my father loved me, really, but there was always my mother. She was the joy of his life. His entire being was focused on her and her alone. He was always whisking her off to one exotic or romantic location or another and so I rarely saw either one. And then one day they left and never came back……." Misao trailed off, perplexed at herself for opening up to this stranger who was really not a stranger after all. She wasn't sure why she instinctively trusted this man. This man with the coldest, hardest, emotionally devoid eyes she had ever seen.   
  
  
  
But there it was. Not even knowing him for twenty minutes, she had already started pouring out the details of her life history, and she wasn't even sure if he was remotely interested or just being polite. His eyes betrayed nothing, showing little emotion. Regardless Misao carried on.  
  
"Father came home to the apartment we lived in, upstairs in this very building, one afternoon in July, ten years ago this summer. He had planned a second honeymoon to Venice, Italy, for himself and my mother, surprising her greatly. And before you ask," 'yeah right Misao he hasn't opened his mouth once since you started talking', mama was very upset at leaving me behind when they left on these frequent trips, but I'm sure you know my father was a very persuasive man. And so after much argument she finally caved in and went…. Again..   
  
I was twelve at the time……. I was finally beginning to understand that there was something wrong with my family life. A family was supposed to be together always, and I was always with Okina at the Aoiya while my father drug my mother along on all of his crazy adventures. Needless to say, I was not a very happy little girl when I found out my parents were leaving me yet again.   
  
I remember telling my father that I hoped he would never come back, that I didn't need him anyways. Selfish really, and quite stupid. He had simply turned his back on me saying nothing. My mama had looked at me with a sad smile, kissed me goodbye and walked out of the Aoiya with my father. It was the last time I saw them. The plane they were on went down, something to do with a faulty gas line. They hadn't even made it into international waters." She feel silent after this suddenly feeling very small and alone, and extremely stupid for telling this man all that she had.  
  
Aoshi sat contemplating her, sipping the tea she had FINALLY set down in front of him. What was he supposed to say to all that? The memories of Misao's father that he had were very different. A strong, wise man of few words, who had carried almost a regal air about him. He could still remember Genrou's constant talk of his wife and little girl. He remembered vaguely and ironically that he had referred to Misao as his 'Sweet Angel Misao'. A very different picture indeed then the one Misao painted. But then again the man he had thought of as a father had only been a part of his life until he was fourteen. He had been abandoned and alone, living with his father's older sister, his one parents dead since soon after his birth. She had been a raging alcoholic and an avid cocaine user. She beat him frequently. Then he met Misao's father. His only support, comfort and outlet had been Genrou Makimachi and his teachings.   
  
The summer after he turned fourteen he recalled Genrou telling him during a particularly brutal day of training that he was leaving for Japan to retrieve his sweet wife and little angel. He would be gone for a month, most likely, taking care of final arrangements for the move and whatnot. It was the last time Aoshi saw him.   
  
When he returned home that night, it was to find his aunt laying on the kitchen floor, half of her brains decorating the kitchen wall, leaving him only a parting note reading, 'Nephew, you ruined my life. What did I ever do to deserve being saddled with a worthless piece of shit like you. Go fuck yourself.' He mused wryly now, that the meager amount of food he was able to convince her to buy, had taken away from her 'addiction money' and he supposed in a deranged way, you could say he did ruin her pathetic existence.  
  
A few days later he found himself being shipped to live with a childless couple in a small rural community on the panhandle. Misao's voice broke through his thoughts. "Did you know that my father had died?" she asked quietly.  
  
"Aa…" he answered simply, and they finished their tea in, a rarity for Misao, companionable silence, both lost deep in their own thoughts of the past.  
  
Feeling suddenly apprehensive Misao felt the need to break the silence. "So", she asked, "what is it that you do?"  
  
"Law school." Aoshi replied shortly.  
  
"Oh do you work?" she inquired suddenly curious to know as much about the silent, and oh so beautiful man sitting beside her.  
  
"No," he said shortly, irritated now, "and your door interrupted my search for employment, I'll have you know." He really didn't want to go in depth with the details of his lack of employment. It was none of her business, anyways. He realized then he had been sitting there for more then an hour with this strange girl, completely ignoring the pressing matters that he needed to resolve. This kind of lack of control and focus, were foreign to him. The need to escape her company was becoming increasingly important to his well being now. Though he wasn't quite sure why.  
  
Pushing up from the barstool abruptly he turned and began walking towards the door, calling a simple, "Thanks for the tea," over his shoulder.   
  
He was leaving again, dammit! Misao began to panic. What was it about this man that made her like this. She had known him for an hour! She needed to do something and do it quick, the only thing she was certain of, was the need to make him stay.  
  
And in true Misao fashion she leapt both feet first into the first thought that crossed her mind.  
  
"Wait!" she cried loudly. Her voice echoing rather melodramatically and ominously through the air. "You can work for me!"  
  
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A/N: I AM SOOOOOOOOOO SORRY!!!!!! I got this new king sized waterbed and kinda pulled a muscle in my back. I have been laid up pretty much since last Saturday! Sorry it was short but the next chappie will be out tomorrow night or early Sunday morning. I can't wait for you to read it! It's called the Sorceress' Apprentice, and K-chan gets to show off everything she learned from bartending for 6 months.   
  
Kinda just wanted to say that Aoshi and Misao's characters, well more like their personalities in relation to their backgrounds has a strong influence in the characters Amelia and Zelgadis from Slayers. (which I also do not own!) Basically, I thought they needed history, (well duh) and I think Amelia's "bad things have happened to me but all I can do is be cheery and hope for the best" and Zel's "Bad things have happened to me and in turn I developed an extreme case of Angsty Bastard Syndrome (nuff said)" really work well for Aoshi and Misao, and so by author's divine right, tee hee, have been incorporated accordingly.  
  
Ahem….  
  
Drum roll, please!  
  
Zerianyu: So sorry, I love suspense! Lol well maybe it has never been done before but I hope it wasn't too disturbing! Thanks  
  
Trick of the Light: Ummm I had my beta reader check, and I checked too, and in Chappie 2 Misao tells Aoshi that she is 22. No where else was her age mentioned. Sorry if ya got confused. Well how she uses her kunai is a big part of the story, you will see this in chappie 6 or 7. Kind of wanted to leave that to the action scenes and not really tell about it beforehand. And as far as the weapons, they are locked up, but more importantly, if you went into a bar where Misao, Kaoru, formally Enishi and now Aoshi work would you be tempted to try and even so much as get behind the bar, let alone go for the weapons??? I wouldn't. That's something else I'm going to go further into and that's the bar, or more importantly Misao's reputation. And even if the reputation wasn't known, they would still be more then easily capable of stopping any evildoers. Evildoers? Where did that come from? Geez…. Thanks for the questions, (very good questions, btw) and the support.  
  
Kagome-Angel2000: Yes I know I am evil…. I am currently seeking professional help for that… lol…… Thanks for thinking it was a pretty dramatic cliffy… I went back and thought ugh… that was kinda lame….. But I'm glad you didn't think so….  
  
Nuko: There will be a lemon… Just not yet. It's a lot easier in a a/m story to just throw them into bed if its not an au story or at least not an au story where there is no past between them. Right now Misao and Aoshi just don't know each other. And I have plans for this to be a long story. Hopefully I can throw a few small tidbits of citrus your way soon, but as for full blown lemon… well its gonna be awhile… Thanks  
  
Mala in se: Actually it reads like he's in his third yr and going to be going a fourth year. I'M SO GLAD YOU CAUGHT THAT!!!!!!! If I could I would be giving you cookies right now. Actually, that is all intended, maybe I should have made it clear that, that was toooo long for someone to be in law school for those who didn't know. I will tell you though that he did only go part time to school one year, so to speak, and it has to do with the Oniwaban. Thanks so much for liking! And I have heard that Miami has a good law program….  
  
Nekochan: I didn't hold the sake/beer/tequila up to your mouth and make you drink it!!!!!! Just think, you are finally building up a tolerance my girl!!!! Hooray, it didn't kill you so hopefully it made you stronger! Your no where to be found, the internet was acting up and so I'm going to post this without you great beta reading skills  
  
Please review!!!!!! Makes me feel extra warm and fuzzy!!!  
  
And stay tuned for Chappie 6 tomorrow or Sunday morning, Its going to be at least twice as long! 


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